Niahrin Lavellan
by GiottoAuditore
Summary: Niahrin Lavellan. Elf. Mage. Inquisitor. Struggling to determine their position in the grand scheme of things, Niahrin questions them-self. Feeling lost, Solas is a welcome friend. But even he, can't alleviate all of Niahrin's worries. Dreams plague Niahrin along with unwanted memories and emotional wounds. Note: Spoilers pertaining to the Dragon Age games, particularly Inquisition


Inquisitor Niahrin Lavellan

Chapter One: Emotional Wounds

'Niahrin Lavellan' was the closest I could get to a 'human' name. Raised as the keeper's first, I lived a life learning and preserving our history and traditions. My people, the Lavellan dalish clan that roamed the northern free marches were cautious as many would assume, although we had enough interest in the political affairs of Thedas for the keeper to send me to the temple of Sacred Ashes.

Everyone in my clan knew me as Niahrin, or Niah for short among my closest friends. A stark change from being called 'Lavellan', 'Inquisitor' or 'Herald'. There were; and still are, days when I wondered why I was getting up each day. To the people I am nothing more than a symbol, their ray of hope. Sometimes I could sympathise with my ancestors… we glorify the good aspects we remember of them yet we continue to dream of better days without trying to improve our situation. My ancestors were Gods! I feel like I'm losing my mind… I haven't been out of my quarters for a day. Solas came up to see me this afternoon and unlike the other visitors, I let him enter. Perhaps it's the feeling of kinship, despite Solas' objections to calling elves his 'people'. I didn't even have to move from my position on the balcony, flicking my wrist as the door unlocked and granted Solas entry. I could hear him, light footsteps on the wooden stairs, soft hand gliding across the stone wall. Elegant movements that brought him to the exit to the balcony, a step away from me.

"Solas", I whispered in a voice that would be lost at the slightest sound. "Who am I?" as the words dropped from my mouth, we both knew it had gotten to me. Eyes distilled with a pale grey colour, skin paler than usual and lips void of colour. I can't remember what I was gazing at, nor does it matter. All I could think of was that I, personally, was irrelevant to the scheme of things. I had seen the fight between Cassandra and Varric, it wasn't meant to be me. Cassandra wanted Hawke, Viscountess of Kirkwall to help seal the breach. Even the hero of Fereldan, Nymeria Therin, Queen and husband to King Alistair was another option. But me? I was just a 'dalish mage' who was ordered to spy on the meeting. I am no-one. Someone who wasn't meant to be there. I stood there, a cold breeze sending a shiver down my spine that final awoke me from the trance. "Solas", I whispered once more, on the verge of tears that did not exist.

Solas grabbed my wrist and led me back inside my room. Forcing me to sit at my bed, he knelt in front of me. "Much is counting on you, Lethallin. You are a beacon of hope for many and for elves in particular, a sign that they are not inferior." Solas says, appearing to make the effort to comfort me.

"Yet I, too, feel nothing in common with the elves I know. Even my clan no longer feels apart of me." A dejected look graces my face as I gaze down at his feet Every dalish elf possesses a vallaslin; tattoo markings that adorn their face to honour particular elvhen gods. Mine was meant to honour Mythal. I had never been very religious but for some reason I felt a strong connection to Mythal. Solas was a unique individual, not a city elf, not a dalish elf… reminds me of the ancient elvhen. His grace, knowledge and wisdom were unlike any individual. The best way to describe him would be: an elf who is not an elf, something greater. Admiration and respect come to mind, a man greater than I. I had been silently staring at his feet for a good half hour before either of us moved.

It was a serene peace. My mind drew blank and time seemed to stop… not in a literal sense, after all, no ventatori could get so close to Skyhold. Solas was the first to break the long silence, "Lethallin, please eat something. Everyone is worried and it would not help to have the Inquisitor fall ill." I brought my eyes back up to his and gave a slight nod of approval. Smiling back at me, Solas lifts himself from his position on the floor and makes his way out of the Inquisitor's quarters.

Twenty minutes later, Solas returns with a tray bearing food which he places beside me. "Ma serannas, falon" I say with a voice devoid of emotion. Gazing down at the tray I notice a bowl of stew accompanied by a few pieces of bread. To a stranger, it may seem like a simple meal and not fancy enough for the Herald of Andraste but it was perfect for me. Drawing my eyes back up to his face, I show a small nostalgic smile, "You remembered." Solas gave me a similar smile in return as he sat next to me, the tray in between us.

The following night, dreams began to cross the line into nightmares. Cold sweat ran, head tossing and body thrashing erased any notion of actual sleep that night. Realising that the recovery of energy would not take place, fatigue took hold. My marked hand began to pulse with pain and unwanted memories flashed before me. I dragged my arm that wasn't throbbing with intense pain and used it to pull my body up. If sleeping would not take me, perhaps some fresh air would provide some relief. Taking a deep breath, my feet guide me to my balcony overlooking Skyhold's garden. My body glows a faint blue as my magic takes me down to the roof bordering the garden. Breath falters for a moment as the unwanted memories make their way through. As my focus is shifted, control is lost and my form drops onto the tiled roof beneath. The impact of the fall induces a sharp cough that shakes my already fragile body. Breathing gets harder, pain returns in the marked hand as well as everywhere else from the impact.

Struggling to get up, my feet slip on a loose tile, sending my body tumbling down the sloped roof. Sliding down, scratches mark me. The marked hand catches onto the edge of the roof, barely holding my lifeless form. Stretching my other hand up to reach for the ledge, strength fails me as I fall into the garden. More coughs escape me as each movement brings great pain with it. Consciousness begins to fade as the world begins to spin. My hand resting on my chest falls to my side, void of strength.

Awakening in a blurry world, images that seem familiar yet are not flash before my eyes. Unresponsive arms cause a nervousness inside. Blinking my eyes several times in an endeavour to focus my sight, I spot a form sitting before me. Struggling to find my voice, "W-wha?" A wispy like sound was all that could be managed given my current state of mind.

The form encroached upon my being, brushing the hair from my face. It was an elegant gesture that was surprisingly gentle. Although the touch was unfamiliar, the aura was not. For a moment it seemed like it was Solas present but the thought was quickly dismissed. Similar auras, yet slightly different. A feeling rose from within me, I felt a familiarity to this being. My eyes narrowed and finally gave a clear view of the being.

An elf. No… an aura of nobility and wisdom. One of the Elvhen.

My mind was quickly drawn back to reality with my near lifeless body strewn across the grass. The fall must have made a noticeable sound as several beings gathered around my existence. Each possessing a face full of worry and terror. Their 'hope' was lying weak and vulnerable, barely with enough strength to lift a finger. After several moments of the crowd hovering around, Solas could be felt making his way over. His aura was soothing, a reprieve from the horrors that had to be faced in becoming Herald.

Solas knelt down and waited for a minute, as if trying to sense any problems. Without any expression in particular, he picked my form up and carried me back up to my room; via the stairs rather than through the window. My mind still active yet my body unresponsive, I resigned my existence to his arms. Reaching the inner door to my quarters, he used magic to unlock the door so as to not have to put me down. As he enters my chambers Solas gently lowers me onto the bed. Finally gaining control over basic functions of my body, I hesitantly open my eyes while trying to move my hands. I gaze at Solas' form, presenting an unexpected look of sorrow. "Solas…" I murmur in a creakish voice. A look of fear gracing my face.

"Do not despair, I shall not let them near you again." Solas says while moving a chair next to the bed. He raises his arms and through his hands he attempts to heal the physical wounds displayed upon my body. His words reassure me but also bring back more unwanted memories and emotional wounds…

" _Niahrin!" Calls a young dalish hunter in search of me. "Hahren is lookin-" A loud 'thud' is heard as the young dalish hunter trips and falls into a human trap. "Ahhh!"_

" _Look here boys! We caught ourselves one of 'em knife ears!" Yells a human as he stares at the poor dalish hunter. Having heard a dalish hunter searching for me I find it odd that he has gone quiet. Sneaking in closer to where the sound originated, the dalish hunter can be seen, captured. Without thinking, I run out from my hiding spot and attack the shemlen with my daggers. I decided to leave my staff back in one of the aravels at base camp as it attracted too much attention so I was left with two daggers I had inherited from my parents. After dispatching three shemlen, I went over and freed the dalish hunter._

" _Hurry, run back and tell Hahren what has transpired!" I order the dalish hunter which spurs on his movement._

 _While my mind was so focused on freeing the hunter, I had not sensed the four other humans that had gathered behind me. All it took was one knock to my neck and I was out cold. The humans took me to their camp… Each day was a mirage of pain and torment. Something only wishable upon one's greatest enemy._

… _It wasn't until three days later that the clan hunters were able to successfully infiltrate the shemlen's camp and mount a rescue. Needless to say, my condition was nearly beyond repair. Even to this day, if a human comes too close, my body acts on the instinct to remove their existence._

Thankfully, Solas has been able to intervene. I informed him early on, at Haven, about my situation and he was kind enough to accommodate my situation. He even told Cassandra that due to my being a mage, and a Dalish one at that, that I possessed a different constitution. Not to mention that the mark of the breech on my hand has created a case that ordinary healers could not comprehend. In other words, Solas basically volunteered for the role of the 'Herald of Andraste's Healer'.

My mind had lost itself to memories and before I knew it, I was trembling while my face broke out sweating. Solas continued his worried look while healing. His face started to drain of colour as the healing progressed. Coming back to my senses I realize what Solas is doing. In a rush I urge, "Enough, Solas! I am fine… so please, stop using your energy on me." He gives a defiant look which is countered by a hand to his cheek. Softly gazing at him, I repeat: "Enough."

The following night, dreams plagued as sleep was realized to be unattainable. Dreams of being chased by dark creatures and hunted by templars in a place resembling the surroundings of the old dalish camp caused nerves to be on edge. It had been several hours until sleep took hold.

The surroundings within the dream appeared as the bed currently being occupied and the woods known all too well to me as a child. A familiar aura was felt within the dream, it was _him_. Sitting up, I inquired to the presence before me. "You're one of the Elvhen, aren't you?"

Appearing in front of me in a similar sitting position, he nodded. "You are Niahrin, of the Lavellan clan. Formerly second to the Hahren of your clan, now… now you are a symbol of hope to Humans and Elves alike. You have come far, lethallin."

Confusion ran through my mind, resulting in a similar expression upon my face. Speaking in a timid voice, "You called me 'lethallin'... we are both elves, yes. However, my people have fallen so far and distantly resemble the true Elvhen. So why?" Despite the appearance I had of being confused, I was happy he referred to me as one of his blood.

He replied in a noble tone as usual, "Not everything is as it seems. You, in particular, are closer to the Elvhen than you realize. Those who seek knowledge are easily betrayed by those who seek to protect them." Raising his right arm, he placed his right hand upon my cheek and gazed into my eyes. I felt entranced by his gaze and touch. In the moment he touched my face, a connection was born that seemed unbreakable. Giving a surprised look for a moment that was followed by a smile he began, "I must apologize. You are sitting there confused as I have yet to introduce myself. My name is-"

"Abelas." I whispered. He showed another look of surprise which caused me to wonder how I knew his name. It seemed so natural, from the pronunciation to the meaning in Elvhen. "Sorrow…" I felt as if I had known his name forever.

He smiled as I repeated his name, quieter than the first. "As much as I would enjoy the company, I must not take any more of your time. Sleep well, Niahrin." His voice begins to fade as I am drawn back to my quarters at Skyhold.

 ** _-End of Chapter 1: Emotional Wounds-_**


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